Visions: Friend or Foe?
by Adrian Castle
Summary: I’ve always wanted to read a story about Sam’s curved knife, so I wrote one myself. This is my first fanfic. :


Title: Visions: Friend or Foe?

Author: Adrian Castle

Summary: I've always wanted to read a story about Sam's curved knife, so I wrote one myself. This is my first fanfic. :-)

Disclaimer: I make no money off this and I certainly don't own anything cuz if I did I'd be rich and I am not.

* * *

Sam woke up on the floor twisted in sheets. The only thing was he didn't remember having a vision or a dream; he didn't even remember falling on the floor. He looked over at the other bed across the crappy motel room at his older brother. He was fast asleep. 

The only problem was the figure standing at the end of Dean's bed.

Sam jumped up not sure of what to do next so he stood there and yelled, "hey buddy!"

The figure made no move toward him or Dean and did not reply.

Sam knelt down and went through his leather satchel searching for a weapon while keeping his eye on the guy. He pulled out his curved knife which had been a gift from his dad. How had it gotten into the satchel when he knew it had been in the trunk?

'Oh, well,' he thought and stood back up.

The figure glanced at Sam and then at the knife and smiled. "What are you going to do with that, poke me?" Moving around the bed, he grabbed Dean by the hair and reefed the unconscious man's head back, exposing his neck.

Sam was now moving toward the guy fast. The man was wearing a long coat, had a bald head and a mustache. He pointed a bony finger at Sam. "SHHH . . . you don''t want to wake him, do you?"

"What do you want?" asked Sam, stopping in front of the guy.

"What indeed," said the man reaching down he grabbed at Dean's amulet. Sam slashed the blade across the guys arm in warning, forcing the man to let go of the amulet and stare at Sam.

That's when Sam got a good look at his brother. Dean was old - well, older like in his forties. Sam looked into the mirror and realized he was older, too.

The guy grinned as he stabbed Dean in the chest. His brother's eyes flew open and he looked up at the scene and then at his chest.

"Sam," was all he said, more annoyed then anything, and he rolled off the bed away from the guy.

Sam growled at the guy and sliced the knife across the man's throat.

The two brothers watched as the guy slumped against the wall and slid down until he came to rest on the floor.

"Wow, that was the third one this month. They're getting better you know. God, that bastard really got me good," said Dean looking down at his chest .

"Holy crap! Let me see that," said Sam, rushing over to where Dean sat on the floor. He removed Dean's shirt - the wound was shallow, but it was springing blood everywhere.

Sam cleaned Dean up so he got a good look at his brother who now looked a lot like their dad. He was heaver, had less muscle, and more lines were apparent on his face. Grey hairs were starting to show at his temples.

"So you were supposed to be on watch there, freak. What the hell happened" asked Dean, putting on a clean shirt.

"Um, sorry. I won''t let it happen again," stated Sam waiting for Dean to make a smart ass remark, but it never came.

"Hey, Dean, who was that guy?" asked Sam, cleaning his knife.

Sam waited and watched Dean as he went about his business of cleaning up the body.

"Dean" said Sam, worriedly looking at his brother.

Nothing. Not even a look. "Dean . . . earth to Dean. Hey!" shouted Sam at the top of his lungs.

Sam knew now why he was on watch.

Dean could not hear at all.

Sam walked over to his brother and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, I am sorry but who was that guy?" he asked watching his brother look right at him. Sam realized Dean was reading his lips.

Dean raised a finger and went to his night stand, put something into his ear and looked at Sam. "Dude, that guy was one of those crazy assassins that keep trying to kill us. I guess the demon is getting tired of us always screwing up his plans," said Dean, grabbing the dead guy and lifting him and then putting him down. "A little help here?"

Sam walked over and grabbed the guy's feet and they dragged him to, well to Sam's surprise, the same Impala. It was still running. Dean popped the trunk and they lifted the guy in and shut the trunk.

"I gotta say, Sammy, when you kill someone you sure make a mess, God," Dean said with a smile he slapped Sam on the back before continuing. "I'm so glad I didn't make you get rid of that knife."

"Yeah," was all Sam said in reply, following Dean back into the motel.

* * *

Sam jolted awake to a loud bang and to his brother coming through the door with a couple of duffles. Dean was 28 again and things were normal, or as normal as their lives got.. 

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," said Dean, throwing the duffles onto his bed.

'It was a vision,' said Sam to himself, looking at Dean. "What are you doing?" he asked getting out of bed.

"We gotta get rid of some stuff. The poor girl is getting full there, Sammy."

For the next few hours they went through the entire car, back to front.

"Dude, for the love of God, I am selling this," said Dean, holding up Sam's curved knife. "You never use it any more and I sliced myself on it the other day and it is taking up room."

"No!" shouted Sam in a panic, grabbing at the weapon and taking it from his brother.

Dean made a funny face "Whatever, man, but keep it out of my way. See this scar? Oh, yeah . . . . that knife did it."

"Besides, Dad gave it to me. I am never getting rid of it," said Sam giving Dean a look knowing now the weapon was forever safe from being tossed.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine, what about this?" he asked, holding up a hand gun they had took from a hunt.

"Sell," said Sam, smiling inwardly. He knew the knife was safe and would eventually save his older brother's life. He put the knife into his leather satchel.

* * *


End file.
